


Little Talks

by barryskinnyjeans



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, gross scenes sometimes? there'll be warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barryskinnyjeans/pseuds/barryskinnyjeans
Summary: Kravitz is an apprentice for the town's mortician, and Taako works at the local apothecary. They meet more often than either of them thought possible.





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> (this was reposted because I had an issue changing the title)
> 
> I tend to post irregularly because of school and other stuff, but I actually have this story kinda planned out so hopefully that motivates me more! Nonetheless, enjoy the chapter!
> 
> CW: There's like a worm in a dead guy's body? It's kind of gross sorry :/

Kravitz wasn’t the most popular person in town, he didn’t need be told that for him to notice. See, his profession wasn’t ideal, working for the mortician meant doing the labor that his master sent him for, retrieving bodies and such- which roughly translated to he was the grim reaper of Old Elfington.

It wasn’t like people were afraid of him, well, the children were but they didn’t really count. Despite this the townsfolk still avoided him, nothing good follows a man who takes away their loved ones, even if it was death who truly did the taking. His trips into the heart of the village were brief, he’d observed that prolonged visits made those around him very uncomfortable, and he was no man if he were to deliberately make people feel that way. That, and he’d been told off by an old woman sitting on the creaky porch of the coffee house numerous times; such scoldings often included phrases like “You won’t be taking me anytime soon!” and “ Stop haunting me you gobermouch!”.

He didn’t mind though.

Kravitz had the inclination to put himself in their shoes and he wholeheartedly agreed that their distaste for him was just. Sure, that meant he was on his lonesome more often than not, but he was content in his work, or his reading, or his compositions. Though, one is sure to go crazy from living without social interaction, so he’d quickly made friends with his employer.

Ms. Queen was a gaunt, dark woman with long black hair and piercing grey eyes- needless to say, she was an intimidating sight. But after years and years of working as her apprentice had softened her appearance in Kravitz’s eyes. Her sharp edges had dulled from daggers to butter knives, no longer did her gaze cut through his calm demeanor. She treated him more as a son than an employee, and he sure was glad for it. Rumor had it, if you were on Raven Queen’s bad side, she’d tamper with your body during her process and disrupt your journey to the afterlife, and no one would ever know! (Of course Kravitz knew this wasn’t true now, but during his first year and a half of working with her, he wasn’t too certain.)

Despite her reputation, though, Ms. Queen was respected among the townsfolk and didn’t have the same troubles Kravitz did when he was out. This meant that his routinely visits had become scarce, as she could complete his tasks for him at no cost to him. So again, perhaps he didn’t see many people outside his workplace but he was completely fine with it.

The less strangers he came across the better he could focus on his work.

That is, until a certain elf showed up at the same house Kravitz was sent to to pick up a body.

From the initial few minutes of their encounter, he could tell he was in over his head. The man that stood before him was tall and lithe, though one could hardly tell under all the layer of eccentric clothing he wore. Kravitz truly was surprised the man had decided to live in a dusty old place like Old Elfington, it seemed like there really was too much for him for this town to contain. The first words out of his mouth affirmed his suspicions perfectly:

“Hey thug, what’s your name? I’m about to tentacle your dick!”

The snarky grin that had spread across the man's face would have been endearing in a different situation, but the scene in front of Kravitz looked a bit gruesome. Metal instruments were strewn across the hardwood, some looking bloodier than others. It appeared that the man knelt at the body had sliced through the muscles that kept the corpse’s jaw at a regular position. The man was currently holding the mouth open and positioning his arm to reach inside.

It had taken a moment for Kravitz to register the exclamation as one directed at him, but when it clicked it jostled him. “Pardon? You’re going to- what?”

“You heard me, homey, get over here,” the elf gestured him to approach the body he was kneeling over. As Kravitz strode across the room and crouched, he continued, “Well, maybe not tentacles, but close enough, right?” In that moment he reached into the dead man’s mouth and slowly extracted a twelve-inch-long purple worm, still alive and writhing between his fingers.

Kravitz flinched and almost fell backwards in disgust, but caught himself and asked instead, “What in the bloody hell is that?”

“Fine dining gone wrong, my dude. You live and you learn, I guess,” he replied, pulling a corked jar from his pocket and thrusting it into Kravitz’s hands. Kravitz opened it and tilted it away from him, letting the elf slide the worm inside and re-cork the glass container. “You think if this thing hadn’t eaten this guy from the inside out it would have given him magic powers?” he asked as he examined the jar.

Kravitz stammered, “I-I’m sorry? Magic powers-”

“Yeah, you’re right, prolly not.” The man pocketed the specimen and stood, brushing off his knees. He stuck out a hand for Kravitz to grab and stand, and the latter would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the tiniest flutter of admiration for the man at the touch. “Hoo-boy! That’s a clammy one, huh?” he said, referring to Kravitz’s hand.

“Yeah, poor circulation…” he trailed off, studying the other man’s face for as long as he could without it being weird.

The elf interrupted his thoughts, though, “Your name?”

“Kravitz, and yours-”

“Cool, cool, come by the apothecary sometime, I could find something to get that blood flowing, hmm?” he mused, starting for the door. He picked up the leather bag Kravitz hadn’t noticed on the way in. “Good luck with the dead guy, I think that worm was it, but you never know.” With that, the strange man left Kravitz standing alone in the parlor of a dead person.

He never caught his name, did he?

 


End file.
